Return to Egypt
by gomenasai-for-everything
Summary: Moses has been forced to return to Egypt because of his mission, but in exchange for the freedom of the slaves, Rameses has demanded that Moses become the prince of Egypt once more and remain at his side. Moses, seeing no choice, agrees and finds himself torn between what he thinks is right, and what he truly feels. Dedicated to vampygurl402.
1. Chapter 1

On my way back to Egypt for the first time in more than a year, my wife behind me, one memory bit at me, a memory of my brother, the man who was meant to become my enemy. My eyes burned with the thought of it; could I do this? After all my brother and I had shared? I was unsure. And yet, what choice did I have? I steeled myself, my breath coming heavily, and tried to wipe the memory away, but found myself unable to do so. Much of the ride, I knew, was still ahead of me. There was nothing that I could do except remember.

-The Memory-

The desert sun beat down upon my back mercilessly as I rode, my body jolting as my horse, a young thing, not yet used to be ridden, faltered on the uneven ground. Ahead of me, my brother rode, his own horse strong and sure, a stallion he'd ridden since it was old enough to ride. Only the best for the future pharaoh, of course, I thought with a laugh, leaning forward on my own steed and tightening my heels around its midsection to urge it forward.

Rameses spared a short, quick glance back to me so he could see me nearing him, and relished in the shock on his face as he realized just how close I was. He whipped back around and leaned harshly left, directing the animal towards a small section of ruins our father was having repaired, knowing that my own horse would likely be unable to navigate them as well as his own. I yelled as if this actually upset me, as if I thought it was anything more than a game, and heard him laugh as I pulled my own horse in the direction he'd gone, urging it ever-forward even as it balked in the face of the weak, partially shattered pillars.

Father tells me often that I shouldn't be so foolish and irresponsible, and mother never ceases in her worries over my health. I think, sometimes, that I'd do well to listen to them now and then. My horse stumbled over a large stone, and then, because it over-compensated for the stumble, managed to startle itself into thinking that it would fall. As such, it reared, and I found myself in the sand, the rough particles scraping my skin raw, my right shoulder aching fiercely and my head ringing. Rameses cried out, not in triumph, but in worry. I thought for a moment that that was not a thing a pharaoh ought to do; he should've been focused on the victory, not the fate of his opponent, before I recalled that the things a pharaoh ought to do only very rarely coincide with what a brother ought to do.

"Moses!" he yelled when he reached me, "Moses, where are you hurt?" I gave him a smile, unwilling to worry him just then; we were, after all, riding to the palace for him to meet some foreign dignitary or another, I wasn't entirely sure. Politics, after all, had never been my strongest suit, nor particularly interesting to me. The race there had been my idea, a way to liven things up before the boredom settled in.

"I'm well, brother, please, calm yourself. It's just a few scrapes and bruises; you know well enough that I've had worse." He looked no less worried, and his hands were soft and gentle where they touched to help me stand.

"You've grit in these cuts, look! It'll heal poorly if it's not cleaned soon. And your shoulder is already turning colors. Come, get on my horse with me. That beast of yours is dangerous. I'll drop you with the physician when we reach the palace." I tried to protest, to tell him that my horse was fine, but he would not hear it. Instead, he helped me onto his own horse (as if I needed the age; I'd been riding only a year or two less than he had, I could certainly get onto one on my own) and climbed on behind me, taking my own horse by its bridle so it would walk beside us.

I sighed, my hands on his horse's bridle to direct it since his only free hand was settled on my belly as though he thought I'd fall again. I suppose I'd have been more offended if this was anything close to a rare occurrence, but really it wasn't. Rameses had always been protective of me, and worried over me often; I'd thought nothing of it until a boy I met in the marketplace remarked on how odd the way he acted was. I had, of course, wondered why it was so "odd", and the boy had told me that his own brother generally had little to do with him, like the brothers of nearly all the boys in the city.

After I went home that day (and received my usual scolding from father for going out into the city alone) I'd asked Rameses about it for the first and only time. The look on his face afterwards, though, as if I'd said the cruelest thing imaginable, his response of, "can I not look after my only brother?" kept me from mentioning it again. Still yet, though, it sometimes embarrassed me, at least a bit; like then, being forced to ride a horse like that, cradled against his chest like a child. I knew better than to comment again in any case, though; I didn't want him to give me that hurt look again, as if I'd broken his heart.

"You know, Rameses, I _am_ alright. This is far from the first time I've fallen from a horse." I felt the chuckle that rumbled from his chest against my back, and his hand patted my stomach softly.

"It is the first time it has been my fault, brother. Besides, left on your own, you would let the injuries fester rather than having them treated." I laughed myself, then, shaking my head.

"Is that so, brother? Are you not the one who went two days with your arm broken because of a distaste for the doctors? I'm very sure I've never done that." I could imagine his smile even if I couldn't see it, and I could certainly hear it in his voice.

"I suppose you haven't. I'm afraid that doesn't mean I'll not do as I will. I am-," I snickered, interrupting him.

"The morning and the evening star, yes, I know." He squeezed me tighter, almost to the point of it aching, but he relaxed again before I felt any real pain.

"I was going to say, 'your elder brother', but yes, that works too." I sighed again; really there wasn't much to say in response to that, honestly. I'd let him get that protective streak out, as I always did, and then I'd be free to do as I pleased, just as I always was.

We rode the rest of the way in silence, his horse staying steady the entire way despite the extra weight, and none of the servants commented when we reached the stables and gave them the horses.

"Look after them," I said, offering them a small smile, but Rameses pulled me away, towards the palace.

"And do not let my brother take that beast out again," he told the men. I sighed; the animal had definite potential, I knew that. I'd wanted to keep working with it. Ah well; Rameses had a habit of getting what he wanted, I knew, and there was little I could do about it as he led me into the palace by the hand, once more as one might do to a child.

Our father, seated upon his throne, caught sight of us immediately, and his face turned down in displeasure at my sorry state. The man in front of him stiffened, likely thinking he'd done something to displease the man as he rose to his feet and strode towards us.

"Rameses, Moses. What have you done now? Must I once more repair a piece of my kingdom that has fallen around your ears?" I shifted on my feet, for once not willing to explain what had happened, I assume because no damage had been done to the palace and only I'd been hurt. Rameses, however, stared at our father confidently, his jaw stiff and his back straight, the carriage of a true prince set to rule.

"Moses' horse is a wild beast; it bucked him off while we were riding here from the river so that I might accompany you in the trade meeting. He is cut and bruised, and his shoulder pains him. I thought it best to tell you what had happened before I brought him to the doctor." Our father's anger melted away immediately, replaced with a soft, affectionate stare as he touched the top of my head.

"Thank you, Rameses. You've done the wisest thing; drop him with the physician and make sure he is comfortable, and then return here." Rameses nodded, his hand still wrapped tightly around mine, and brought me to the court physician, who had me lie on my stomach on a soft bed so that he could prod at the worst of my injuries.

"My, Moses, you've done a number on yourself this time," the old man said, shaking his head and dampening a cloth in the small bowl of water upon his work table, which he used to clean my skin around the open cuts.

"He will be well?" Rameses asked, worry darkening his voice, but the physician only laughed.

"Rameses, this is all minor compared to some of the ways the two of you have come here. He will be well enough to do as he likes by the hour's end." I watched Rameses nod out of the corner of my eye before he stepped beside me and stroked my head and my cheek once, kind and soft.

"Be well, brother. If you finish here before my meeting is through, wait outside the doors for me, and we'll go to my rooms together for the evening."

"Of course," I said, and he nodded, leaving the room with fast, purposeful strides. He really would make a fine pharaoh, I thought with a faint smile. My brother. I wondered what I had done to deserve one so great, so noble as he.

The doctor rubbed stinging salves over my injuries, his hands hard and practiced. He had been treating my brother and I since we were children, from having us drink bitter potions and chew tasteless plants when we were ill to setting our bones and bandaging our wounds when we partook in one of our frequent misadventures. The familiarity of it, though, made it hurt no less, and I hissed and groaned throughout most of the process, until finally he decreed me as treated as I would get and allowed me to leave.

I did as Rameses had bid and waited by the closed doors for perhaps an hour until he finished his meeting, at which point he stepped out with a man I didn't recognize at his side, I assume the dignitary he'd been set to meet. They spoke of things I didn't truly comprehend, given that father didn't often confide in me about affairs of the state, until the man caught sight of me and smiled.

"Prince Rameses, you keep fine servants," he said, and my brother stiffened immediately, leaving his side and coming to mine.

"You do me offense! This is not a servant, but a sovereign prince, my younger brother Moses!" He was smiling, but it did not reach his dark eyes. The man's face flooded with terror, and he bowed, forcing a chuckle from his throat.

"My sincerest apologies, Prince Rameses. I was unaware that your father had another son. Prince Moses, I do hope you'll forgive me." I shrugged the hand Rameses had lain across my shoulders off, and bowed my head to the other man.

"I take no offense, I promise. I'm sure I don't cut the princely image very well right now anyway." He smiled, wavering and nervous, and shook his head.

"No, no, it was my mistake. You're… you're quite fine," he tried, and I watched as Rameses' forced smile fell and his mouth turned into a tight line.

"Come, Moses. The guards will escort him to his mount." I attempted for a moment to wish the man well on his return to wherever he'd come from, but Rameses dragged me away too quickly, deep into the palace where his rooms were situated.

I did not ask about his behavior; I'd learned long ago that it did little good, and I'd always get the same answer no matter how I posed the question: "You are _my _brother, Moses. I will not have you harmed or disrespected." Besides, I loved my brother, truly I did; all I wanted, more often than not, was to make him laugh, to make him smile. If he felt the same of me, and desired to look after me… embarrassing as it sometimes was, I wouldn't begrudge him that, and sometimes, I even found myself taking pleasure in it. It was, after all, nice to know that there was someone who would put me above all else, look after me even when I wasn't looking after myself. We were brothers; our parents loved us, to be sure, but one day, they would not be around, and we would have only one another. We were together in all things, I had known that all my life. My brother; I really, truly did love him.

-End Memory-

I took in another deep breath and let it out heavily; even now, even knowing what I knew, I still could not say that I didn't love Rameses. In my mind, he was still my brother, still the man I'd grown up beside. I felt Tzipporah's hands squeeze my hips in some form of comfort, as if she could read my thoughts where she sat behind me.

The palace was looming in the distance, familiar, so familiar, my once-home. We did not, however, go far into the main city before guards accosted us, their faces hard and dangerous.

"Who are you? What business do you have here?" they asked me, hauling myself and Tzipporah from our mount.

"I'm here to see the pharaoh," I said, and it felt so strange to call Rameses by that title, almost wrong. They laughed, as if they idea of me seeing him was the most foolish thing they'd ever heard.

"Oh, yes, we'll take you to see the pharaoh," the apparent leader sneered, his grip on my upper arm bruising, and I flinched. "I'm sure he'll be so _happy _to meet a trespasser." I lifted my chin high, like the prince I once was, and resisted the urge to laugh in their faces. Rameses would not hurt me; I was confident in at least that. He had always loved me, just as I had loved him; I couldn't imagine that that had changed any more for him than it had for me.

Still yet, I could not tell them who I was, not then; likely, it would only upset them, and probably result only in me being killed before I got into the palace, so instead I remained silent and let them escort myself and Tzipporah, who was snarling and hissing crudely, none too gently through the city and then through the palace's enormous entrance.

There looked to be something like a small celebration going on inside, with lovely women dancing in the center of the room, and countless high ranking people milling about and chatting with one another faintly. Rameses, my brother, dressed now in his father's headdress and jewelry, sat upon the throne, his face cooler and harder than I recalled. Tzipporah looked around, faint annoyance and disgust present in every line of her face as we walked further into the room, away from the guards.

I watched his eyes go wide, his body lean forwards as he took me in, and the music and dancing fell silent and still around us as he stood. Every inch of him betrayed his surprise as he stood, and then smiled, joy in him the likes of which I never saw before.

"Rameses," I said, slow, perhaps a bit awed, because I had assumed that he would be pharaoh now, yes, but the sight of him like that… it shocked me.

"Moses?" he asked, breathless, "Is it really you?" I had missed him so much, over the years, some days more than others. Seeing him now, like this, I knew that he had felt the same. He walked towards me and embraced me suddenly, his arms like snakes around me, and he said my name again, finally seeming to truly realize who I was, that I was there, that I was real. I found myself smiling without truly meaning to, returning his embrace the best I could in the awkward position.

"Look at you!" I shouted once he released me, "Pharaoh!" He could only laugh, his hands teasing at my robe as he shook my head.

"Look at _you! _What on earth are you dressed as?" The familiar teasing smile cut the coldness I'd seen in him upon my entrance, and he was my elder brother once more, the Rameses I had grown up with. I couldn't hold back my laugh even though Tzipporah had not stopped looking disgusted and the court around us appeared restless and antsy, confused as all.

"It's so good to see you," I finally had to say, embracing him once more with all of my strength, and he matched me, his arms tight around my back even as his priests spoke up against me for the crime I had committed so long before, when I fled the city. Just like before, I couldn't help but think, always ready to defend me against all comers no matter what I had done. My eyes burned again.

"Be still. Pharaoh speaks," he told them, half-mocking. "I am the morning and the evening star." And that reminded me of why I was here, what my mission was. Ice crept up my spine; I had missed Rameses, yes, and I loved him, but… the time for pleasantries had ended. It was time to say what I had come here to say, whether I truly wanted to or not.

"Rameses-," I tried to interrupt him, but he held a hand out to silence me, shaking his head, a faint smile curling his lips.

"It shall be as I say. I pardon forever all crimes of which he stands accused and will have it known that he is our brother Moses, the prince of Egypt." But I was not, not anymore. I had not been the prince since I left the palace. I had not… I had not been his brother since then either. His hands on my shoulders felt like weights where once they had been feathers. It was time to end the illusion, no matter how much I might have wished for it to go on.

"Rameses… in my heart you are my brother, but things cannot be as they were." The hurt on his face mirrored that which I'd seen when I asked him why he always felt I needed to be protected and looked after so watchfully when none of the other boys were.

"I see no reason why not." Because I had run away. Because I had undertaken a mission that I could not, would not, refuse, a mission from my God. Because he was the pharaoh of Egypt, and I was the chosen leader of the people he kept in chains.

"You know that I am a Hebrew, and the God of the Hebrews came to me," I said, as level as I could manage, and his face twisted with shock, with something almost like laughter.

"What?" he asked, as if we were children, as if he had not learned of my true origins, that his parents were not my own. I could not stop then, though; I could not give in at the genuine surprise, the aching, festering misery on his face.

"And he commands that you let his people go." There. I had said what I had to say. His face contorted, from sadness to anger, and his hands squeezed my shoulders roughly as he laughed.

"Your time in the desert has made you ill, Moses. Come, let's get you tended to; I'm sure you could stand for a good meal and some water. You look as though you need a shave, too. You look more like a wild dog than my brother." I turned my eyes from his face; I couldn't stand to look at him as he pretended that nothing had changed.

"Rameses, they are my people too. Let them go," I said, and he gritted his teeth, his hands sliding down my shoulders to clutch at my biceps, pulling me close to him with strength I could not seem to contest.

"You are my brother, Moses, not… them."

"Let my people go, Rameses." I had to remain stalwart against him, against the desperation emerging on his face as he held me ever tighter, the anger that blossomed even brighter within his eyes.

"Your people are here, Moses, not out there."

"Rameses-," I tried once again, and he silenced me with a hand over my mouth.

"Be silent. I will not stand in my own palace and hear my own brother disown me." Tzipporah chose then to come at us, her own face tight with rage, her fists clenched at her sides and her chin defiantly high.

"He is not your brother," she nearly roared, before the guards caught both of her arms and detained her where she stood. "He is my husband, the future ruler of our people!" Rameses ignored her, as if deaf to her screaming.

"They're just slaves, Moses," he said, and I stiffened. My brother would not have said that, never. I pulled free from him and stepped away, shaking my head, reminiscing painfully on a similar seen that had taken place with the man I once called father.

"No, Rameses; they are my people." He hit me, then, his fist thumping harshly against my jaw and his teeth bared in a snarl. The people around us, who had been gossiping quietly amongst themselves, fell as silent as death. The woman who had been on the raised dais at his side escorted a young boy out of the room. I tasted blood faintly in my mouth, but didn't raise my own hand against him.

"You still insist on saying that? Fine, Moses, I will not argue with you any longer; it would do me as much good to fight the gods themselves. Call them as you will; all that matters to you is their freedom, yes?" I nodded once, stiffly, and he smiled. It was not the smile I knew from him, though; rather it was cruel, frozen instead of warm, a pharaoh's smile. "Then they will be freed. A few Hebrews will make little difference in the construction of my empire. I do, however, have a condition."

"I'll do whatever you ask of me, Rameses," I said. I wanted to avoid the path of bloodshed unless it became truly necessary; more death was not a way to stop death. He chuckled, this time, nodding.

"Good, Moses. I will let them walk free on the condition that you remain here with me, in your true home." Tzipporah yelled again, but the guards silenced her with blades to her throat. Could I? I didn't know. I had made at least a partial life for myself, with Tzipporah and her family. I had not been always happy, of course, but… it had worked, I supposed, as much as anything worked. But this way, my people would be let free without conflict, without bloodshed, and that was my mission. That was what I wanted. And so, I nodded.

"Of course, Rameses."

"No, Moses!" Tzipporah cried out, but I shook my head.

"This is the way it must be, Tzipporah. Go; you will lead them out of Egypt. Find my siblings, Miriam and Aaron, and tell them that I am well. Be safe for me." Rameses embraced me again, then, as the guards forced Tzipporah from the palace, a smile on his face, and brought me to the dais where he had sat, clasping my hand in his and raising it to the air.

Wild noise erupted outside the palace doors, cheers and songs from the Hebrews as they were set free, as they were able to drop their work and be led away, and Rameses smiled in the truly happy way he had when I'd arrived.

"Behold!" he cried, and all the people in the room turned to face him at the authority in his voice. "The sovereign prince of Egypt, Moses!" They, and he, cheered, the noise blending seamlessly with the clatter outside. My legs shook, with fear and with a happiness I didn't want to admit to, a happiness I was sure I shouldn't feel, and yet something within me insisted on telling me that I was home, that I was where I meant to be. I swallowed thickly, and tried to reconcile everything once more in my head; I was Moses, leader of the Hebrews. I was Moses, prince of Egypt. I was Moses, brother of Rameses. I was… I wasn't entirely sure what I was, but I knew, at least, that no matter how Rameses might will it, things would not be as they once were again.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: So, I know that this one is a little short, but I knew that if I continued from where I stopped, I wouldn't have a good stopping point for a pretty long time. So, in any case, the next chapter will be longer, and the actual slashy bits will come far more obviously into play at that point, along with, hopefully, a few more details for the actual plot.

* * *

We stood there for only a few moments before Rameses took me away, leading me deep into the palace, through hallways that sent an ache of longing through my heart. All I ever wanted; I could recall thinking as much, once upon a time, when I was only just beginning to understand who I really was.

"I kept your rooms the same," he told me, his voice quiet and sedate. "I had always hoped… well, it matters little now! You are here again, yes? Come, let's get you to the baths; you smell like sheep." The teasing smile on his face reminded me of the Rameses I knew, and at the reminder, I felt myself smiling.

"Well, Rameses, I must say that that is no wonder. I have been a shepherd since I left here, in a small village. I met Tzipporah again there." His nod was somewhat tense and distracted, as if he was doing anything then that required any thought. After all, he surely knew the way to the bathes as well as I, unless they had been moved since I was gone.

"She is very pretty," he said. "If you'd like her to stay-," he began, but I shook my head.

"No. She has my staff. She will lead our people away, she and my brother and sister." Another tense nod, as if he were fighting hard not to speak out against my words, but the door to the bathes was soon visible, and he led me inside with a gentle hand on my lower back.

"Here we are. Will you need any help? I can call someone if you do." I laughed, shaking my head.

"No, I think I can manage well enough." I shrugged my thick robes off, the stiff fabric not so much pooling at my feet and thumping there, dust floating from them in plumes. Rameses appeared incredibly amused at the sight as I made my way into the water, and I couldn't hold back the deep, happy sigh at the feel of the cool, clean water. It had been some time since I'd been able to bathe with anything more than a bucket, and really, I had missed this very much. I scrubbed the layers of dirt and dust that had caked onto my skin off as best I could, and all the while Rameses watched, until at last he made his way over to me, a shaving knife held in his hand, and turned me around to face him. I yelped, and he seemed to want to smile, but he bit it back.

"Hold still, and keep your face over the stone, not the water."

"Rameses, I can shave myself!" I tried, but he shook his head.

"I haven't got a mirror with me, and you'll only cut yourself if you try without one. Now, do as I asked you and hold still." As ever, there was little I could do or say in protest; I'd hold still and he wouldn't cut me, or I'd attempt to turn away and he would. Besides, it wasn't so bad to have my face clean again, not really, and he could've done far worse to me. I still jolted at the feeling of his hand on my cheek when he finished, though, the strangely ticklish sensation of touch against that skin that hadn't even seen sun since shortly after I left Egypt. "There now, see? That's much better. Are you done washing yourself? I'll fetch you some new clothes if you are."

"I… suppose you can," I said, and he was gone like a flash. I wondered when it had become appropriate for the pharaoh to fetch a guest's clothes, and then realized with a sudden shock that I was not a guest. I was once more a prince, the younger brother of the pharaoh himself. I couldn't help but shake my head as I waited for Rameses to return, hoping against hope that Tzipporah and the others would be alright, wherever it was that they were going. Surely, at least, it would have to be better than their lives here would be.

I felt myself growing a bit melancholy, for a moment, before Rameses returned with a flourish, a shift draped over his arm and jewelry in his hand. So, so much time had passed in so few months. His free hand closed around mine as he hauled me dripping from the bath, at which point I grabbed one of the soft rectangles of fabric that were scattered liberally throughout the room and dried myself with it and took the clothing he handed me. I thought, for a moment, that I must've forgotten the proper way such things were to be worn in the time that I'd been away, but my hands went through the motions as easily as breathing, as though my muscles remembered what the rest of me didn't.

"My brother," he whispered, and suddenly he had his arms around me once again, his eyes shut. I returned his embrace, my own eyes tilted skyward. Tzipporah had called him a demon once, when she thought I was not around to hear her say it. The people with her, her father and a few others who lived in the village, had agreed wholeheartedly. I could not reconcile that image with the man who held me now, the man I had once called brother.

"Rameses, please," I murmured, although I had no real idea of what it was I was asking him for. He shook his head and pulled away, his dark eyes boring into me.

"You are my brother, Moses, whether the river bore you or my mother. I have called you such in your absence and I will continue in your presence." I placed the golden neckless around my neck, the weight familiar and comfortable, and slid the cuffs onto my arms. "You must think so too; you still wear the ring I gave you, after all this time," he said, nodding his head down at my hand, which was, as he'd said, still bedecked in the blue-jeweled ornament, half-shining in the light. Even still, I could not… I had missed him, yes, and I loved him, and so I had kept the ring. He was still my brother in a way, to be sure; you could not call someone you had grown up with many other things. But I could not pretend as though we shared blood anymore; I had come to terms with my identity long ago, and now it was time for Rameses to do the same.

"I said, Rameses, that you are still my brother in my heart, but I am a Hebrew. You can't pretend otherwise. Had I not been put in the river, had your mother not found me, I would be dead, as all those other children were, or enslaved, as my brother and my sister were." His teeth were gritted, his jaw hard and stiff, and he didn't even bother to shake his head.

"Perhaps by your blood, Moses, but you do not belong with them. You… you were a gift from the gods, and that is enough of an answer for me. As I said earlier, I will not argue with you about it any further. You are here now and it is here you will stay because this is your home. This place, with me, is where you belong." I chuckled, reaching out and squeezing his shoulder once, faint.

"As you said, Rameses, I don't feel like arguing right now. You said you kept my old rooms?" He brightened as though I'd spoken magic, a smile splitting his lips as he led me off again.

"I did. Father considered having it changed for a time, but I wouldn't have it. I always knew you'd return; Egypt is in your blood. There have been some additions nearby, though," he said, his arm gesturing widely around, as if he were presenting something to me, and then fell into an explanation of the new statues or hallways or whatever else that had been added since my departure.

I fell perhaps too easily into the routine of it, but the chatter was familiar and comforting and much though it pained me to admit it I was nearly certain that Rameses was close to right in regards to his comment about this being my home.

I had been happy with Tzipporah and her people, I truly had. It was comfortable there, and the people were kind to me. Here, though… there was a certain feeling I got, deep in my chest, when I entered this place, something warm and pulsing, something that could be nothing but _home_. The feeling only intensified as Rameses led me into my old rooms, kept clean and fresh as they'd been the day I left. I ran my hands over the wall, the furniture, the soft linens on my bed. It had been so long since I'd slept in a proper bed. Rameses smirked, then, the teasing smirk he always gave me when he'd been proven right, and I sighed.

"Yes, yes, Rameses. I never claimed that I did not… that I never missed this. I did, always." He smirked again, waving me off, and touched my cheek.

"I know you did, Moses. I will leave you for a time, alright? So that you may resettle yourself. I'll return to bring you for a meal, alright? I'm sure you'd like a good meal again, after all this time." I agreed faintly, and with a soft pat of his hand, he was gone.

I fell onto my bed as soon as he was out of sight, my eyes closing again, the fabric sensuous against my skin. So, so long, and yet it felt as if only a day had passed. I chuckled, recalling memories of this room, of this place; switching statue heads with Rameses, teasing the priests with Rameses, visiting the market and racing through the chariot and crashing dinner parties, all with Rameses. I hadn't ever really spent much time with anyone else, had I? No, no, I hadn't.

Rameses had… he hadn't been too fond of others hanging around me too often. He'd been suspicious of most of them, thinking they were using me only to heighten their rank. He'd called me guileless more than once, saying I was too easily fooled by a kind word. Still, I'd come to know it as little more than a fact of life after a time, hadn't I? I was quite sure I had, and yet, for some reason, I felt as though I were missing something, something large, something important. I squeezed my eyes more tightly closed, my thoughts turning even further inward so that I could remember what it was that I seemed to have lost to time's sands.

I could almost put my finger upon it when I heard a noisy clatter and a yell outside my quarters that drew me abruptly from my reverie. My eyes jerked open and I stumbled clumsily to my feet, rushing out to where I'd heard the noise.

A guard had a young man, one I didn't recognize but who appeared to be a servant, pressed against a wall. _You look like a serving boy_, I heard, a whisper from deep within the recesses of my mind.

"Be still," the guard barked, but the young man kept up his twisting, yelping whenever he could, although the guard quickly managed to get his hand over his mouth. I gritted my teeth harshly, felt them ache at the stress of it, and moved towards them as purposefully as I could.

"And what, exactly, is going on here?" I heard them both take in a sharp breath, and the guard's arm slackened, allowing the boy to jerk free and take a few long steps towards me. Almost subconsciously, I pushed him behind me.

"Prince Moses," the guard breathed, "you've returned." I laughed.

"Indeed I have. I'd have thought the word would've already spread, but then you were far too busy skulking about my rooms and accosting serving boys to hear any news, weren't you?"

"No! No, Prince Moses, he is… he is a thief! I caught him in the chambers of the pharaoh's son, holding a ring." The young man went wide eyed and gaped, shaking his head and refusing over and over again. I silenced him with a hand, and the fact that he obeyed set my heart to twisting just a tad uncomfortably.

"Is that so? I'm afraid I don't believe you. Rather, I think your intentions were far less… pure. I also think that you need to leave my hallway immediately, and if ever I see or hear of you doing something like this again, I will make certain that your time working here in the palace comes to an end." I thought for a moment that he would protest, or that he would become angry with me, but instead he only tensed his jaw and bowed.

"Yes, Prince Moses," he hissed through clenched teeth, before he stomped away quickly, his movements stiff and almost fearful.

"Prince Moses?" the boy behind me asked, quiet, fearful, as though I'd turn on him now that the guard was gone. _Nothing like your brother_, the voice in my memories mumbled now, and I shook my head.

"I am, but please, call me Moses. I haven't been a prince for some time. Are you well?" His smile was weak and fluttering, but he nodded nonetheless.

"Yes. Yes, I'm alright. Thank you." I laughed, patting his back and grinning.

"Don't worry over it. Why don't you come find me when it's time for the evening meal, hm? You can sit with Rameses and me, and, I suppose, his family." He squirmed, shrugging and looking down at his feet.

"I cannot. I'm the little prince's servant, and so I must be available to serve him." Ah. Really, I ought to have expected as much.

"Ah well. I'll see you, in any case. Be well, would you? And come to me if ever… well, if ever something like this happens again." He gave me a smile like a sunburst and nodded, running off towards where I assumed Rameses' son lived. As for myself, I went back to my own bedroom and lay back onto my bed.

A face swam in front of my vision, a very distantly familiar, snarling face. A guard, I could tell as much, and I thought and thought and thought until finally, yes, there, there it was. He was a guard, yes, one who had harassed me for perhaps a year, one with large hands who thought me less for being the second son.

He'd terrified me, and I had been somewhat small at the time, but yet I didn't want to tell Rameses, to tell anyone, for fear of being seen as weak. I'd done something like cloister myself away for a time, hiding in my rooms until Rameses was close to begging me to come out and spend a day with him, but the guard… yes, he had frightened me, very much.

There had been one evening, when I'd been sneaking out to fetch myself something to eat, and he'd caught me on the way down. I'd been petrified, so much so that I could hardly even scream, and I had thought, this is the evening, this the moment, this is when he will take all he desires from me and I will be able to do nothing about it. My eyes had been closed then, too, but whether in fear or acceptance I had no idea. His hands had been very, very cold, I recalled. I'd felt sick at the touch of them.

Then, though, someone had come, another guard, very tall, taller than me, taller than Rameses, taller than Seti. He'd closed his hands like a vice around the other man's neck and torn him away, tossing him away and sending him sprawling across the cool floor.

He'd asked me if I was alright, over and over, his warm eyes fearful, and I'd told him that I was again and again. Following that, he'd escorted me to my room, and the next day, I'd sought him out again and spent the afternoon with him.

We'd become friends. Yes, we'd been friends. I'd spent more and more time with him, wandering about with him on his rounds, but one day… something had changed. I had stopped, and instead begun to spend my hours with Rameses again. I had ceased seeing him; I'd assumed he'd gotten transferred somewhere else, or that he had decided he didn't want to see me any longer, or any number of other things, and that had been that.

I'd been sad for a time, of course, but it had passed, and I had gone back to my day to day life. What had his name been? I lay there for perhaps ten or fifteen minutes before I could recall, but when I did, it hit me like a lightning strike and I had to smile. He truly had been a kind man. I wondered if Rameses would know what had happened to him. I supposed I would ask when he returned to fetch me for dinner, but until then… surely it would hurt no one if I remembered for a time.

I was indeed home, in a way, no matter how that thought made me ache with guilt. I was happy, and I was a tad depressed, but I knew that I was where I was meant to be, if nothing else. I prayed that Tzipporah, that our people, would not hate me for that.


	3. Chapter 3

Rameses came for me not long after my final musings, looking more like a statue of one of his ancestors than himself in his pharaoh's garb. I offered him a faint smile when he appeared, and he returned it with a severe nod of his head and a hand held out to help me stand and walk to the hall where we would, apparently, be dining that evening.

"I trust you had a pleasant afternoon, Moses?" he asked quietly, almost nervously. I chuckled, nodding slightly.

"Of course. I explored a bit, although I'll admit I mostly rested. It was… a long road, getting here. And you?" He sighed, shaking his head.

"It went as well as can be expected, although that, admittedly, describes the majority of my days now. Always there are problems, but today they, at least, didn't threaten the empire to shambles." I could only imagine. If nothing else, I supposed, at least I could say that I had never envied Rameses' position.

"But all is well?" He nodded.

"Of course. Were it not, I'd not be taking dinner now, in the public eye. You do at least remember common manners, don't you? I can't have you tarnishing the royal image now," he teased, and I fought a chuckle.

"I'm sure you do a fine enough job of that on your own, Rameses," I returned, and light lit his eyes.

"One day, brother mine, I will teach you respect."

"Perhaps on our death bed, but not a moment before, I swear it." He looked ready to respond, but it seemed we'd reached the dining hall, and instead he simply straightened his back and stiffened his jaw, turning from laughing man only just fully into his adulthood to proud pharaoh in an instant.

I tried to match his stance as best I could, for despite my teasing I had no real desire to actually embarrass him; I'd learned how dangerous such things could be long before. Still, it had been some time since any sort of royal carriage had been expected of me, and I'm sure it showed; a relaxed slouch had become my norm, and standing so tall again set up an ache in the middle of my spine.

The way people fell silent and bowed at our entrance was surely strange as well; how many days had passed since last someone had bowed to me? It didn't feel… right, not anymore. Rather, it caused an almost sick feeling to swirl in my stomach. I was not meant to be… to be worshipped like this. I supposed at least that I could take some comfort in the fact that Rameses didn't seem to truly relish in it either, although he was obviously more comfortable with it than I.

He led me to the head of the table and sat by my there, myself settled at his right hand, and held up a toast to me, his returned brother, before at last the dull roar of their conversation returned and allowed he and I to relax and speak once more amongst ourselves.

"Where are your wife and son?" I asked him suddenly, noticing very starkly their absence at the table, and the smile that quirked his lips was fond and gentle. It softened the hardness of his face exponentially, making him look more like the man I'd left than the one I'd come back to.

"My son eats an earlier meal with Nefertari; it does him poorly to stay up so late in the evening for meals." I froze. Why, then, had the servant told me he'd have to look after the boy during this meal, then? I couldn't imagine he had a reason to lie. Rameses' face tightened once more with worry, and his hand on my shoulder was, admittedly, quite comforting. "Moses?"

"Ah, I'm sorry, Rameses. It is only… I met a servant, earlier today, one who said he served your son. He was being… accosted by a guard for no reason, and I helped him. I offered to allow him to eat with me tonight, but he claimed that he had to be available to serve him." Rameses smiled, shaking his head and squeezing the shoulder he grasped.

"He meant in his rooms, I'm sure. Do you recall the fear you once had, Moses, of being alone in your rooms at night?" I looked away, honestly still a touch embarrassed at my childhood fears, but nodded nonetheless.

"Of course; the darkness petrified me." Rameses nodded.

"Indeed. You could not sleep without me beside you, most nights. My son shares a similar fear of the dark, although his is not so severe; he rests well enough so long as he knows that someone else is in the room, no matter who that someone happens to be. If you mean the servant who I suspect you do, he often performs the task. You say a guard was bothering him, though?" I nodded, starting in on my meal. The food tasted divine in my mouth, too; I supposed I could simply add it to the list of things I'd missed without realizing it.

"Yes, outside my rooms. I suppose the guard had not heard of my return and thought them uninhabited." Rameses' face hardened even further when he shook his head.

"No. I made it very clear upon your return that you had, in fact, returned. Every guard in the palace would've known of it before you finished your bath. I'll have it dealt with after we dine, in any case. But, alas, this is not very pleasant talk! What, exactly, have you been up to in your absence, brother?" I grinned brightly, shrugging just a tad.

"Very little when compared to you, I'm sure. After I left here, I travelled in the desert for a time, until I came across a village. I chased away some bandits for three young girls, at which point I managed to fall into a well." Rameses paused me with his laughter, low and resonant even as he tilted his head down in an attempt to hide it from the general public before us. I shushed him with a laugh of my own, and when he finally fell silent, I continued. "They tried to pull me out, of course, but I was too heavy for them, and eventually Tzipporah came across us and, after recognizing me and allowing me to fall back to the bottom for a time, did finally aid them in my rescue. Since then, I lived among them in the village, and, eventually, married Tzipporah, although… well, I suppose I regret that now. I've consigned her now to a life where she cannot have another despite my absence." He nodded thoughtfully, gazing at me curiously, almost as if he'd never seen me before. "And you? Your wife is very beautiful." He nodded.

"She is indeed. Her name is, I believe I've said, Nefertari. She is as brilliant as our mother, too, and has proven as such to me more than once, even when I would far prefer that she did not." I grinned.

"And? How did you meet her?" He heaved a deep sigh, his expression somewhat longsuffering, and I wondered what I had said to upset him.

"We did not marry out of love, Moses. It was entirely a political affair borne out of necessity, although one I'll admit to being pleased with. She bore me a good son, and, as I said, she has a good head for political matters when I require it. I allow her to do as she will with whoever she wishes to do it with, and she allows me the same. We have not even shared my bedchamber since the eve of our wedding; I suppose I like her too much to consign her to none but me when she wants me as little as I want her. She is a more a friend and an ally than a wife, really." Ah. I'd forgotten how… common such things could be, honestly.

"Have you found… anyone else?" I asked, and he chuckled, brushing his knuckles softly across my cheek in a way he often did when he thought I was being foolish.

"I haven't really got the time, Moses. We can't all be as lucky as father was, after all." I nodded, looking down at my plate because his eyes stung me like hot coals. He brushed my hair behind my ear almost softly, and I turned my gaze back to him at the gesture. "I never thought you'd look nice with your hair so long," he said by way of explanation, and I chuckled, glad to have a way to turn the conversation to more pleasant grounds.

"Really? I never really noticed how it looked; I suppose it was just simpler than finding something to cut it with."

"Keep it," he said, half-request half-command.

"I suppose I don't mind it too badly." He nodded, finally turning at least a little bit of attention to his own plate. We spent the rest of the meal like that, chatting aimlessly about the least important things we could imagine. I fell into the rhythm of it as easily as I breathed; it felt like it had been yesterday when I'd left. The more comfortable I became, the more I drank, too, sweet wines from faraway places that I didn't know but that Rameses spoke of easily. By the end of the evening, I was comfortably drunk, although Rameses himself wasn't even slurring, and when he helped me stand, saying that he was escorting me to my rooms before I made a fool of myself, he walked as steadily as he had upon our entrance.

I giggled into his shoulder, painfully amused at the thought for reasons I didn't know, and his own lips quirked into a smile as we reached my bedchambers and he flung me down upon it. He tried to leave then, but I… I haven't the slightest idea of why, but I didn't want to be alone that night, not yet.

"Don't," I said, "please, stay." He looked confused and was unafraid to hide it, but even still he did as I'd asked, settling beside my bed quietly and without complaint.

"Are you ill?" he asked me, and I felt myself giggling again as I shook my head.

"No. I just don't want to be alone tonight. Do you… Rameses, do you remember a guard? One I used to be friends with?" He stiffened suddenly, as though I'd brought up something terrible, and finally sighed.

"I do. You and he… it was very… inappropriate." I stared.

"What? He was… no. We were friends. Where'd he end up, anyway? Suddenly he just… wasn't around anymore. I remembered it, today." He stroked my hair again, shaking his head and gazing up at the ceiling.

"A guard is not _friends _with a prince of Egypt, Moses. He was meant to protect you, nothing else; to speak with you as informally as he did… father had him assigned to mother instead, and kept him from near your hallway." The alcohol sent my emotions reeling like wild things, flashing wild across the spectrum from confusion to sadness to anger.

"What? But… I barely had any friends, Rameses. Why could I not be friends with a guard?"

"This is why it was never mentioned, Moses; you take things to seriously. Relax, will you? You're drunk, and if you do something foolish now, you'll regret it come morning." I'd never liked it, when Rameses spoke reason. I liked it even less, just then.

"No! Tell me… tell me why I was never allowed to befriend anyone. Not the boys in the city, not the servants, not the guard even though he… even though he saved me." I saw anger on Rameses' face, for a moment, and his hand curled around my necklace harshly, jerking harshly to pull me into a half-sitting position, but I barely registered it, instead just gazing at him not-entirely-steadily.

"Because you, Moses, are my brother, the brother my mother lifted from the river because this was where you belonged, where the gods brought you against all odds and obstacles. To give you over to someone else was something I simply could not do." What? I didn't understand. I couldn't, really. What did any of that even mean? I didn't know; it was as though he were speaking another tongue even though I knew, at least individually, every word he spoke.

"You… you had other friends." He laughed, raucous and almost bitter.

"So I did. I, though, I was not you, Moses. You were, and still are, mine. If I desire to keep you, then that is what I will do." The surety in his voice… I had never heard that, before. He'd always had a habit of getting what he wanted, yes, but generally he got it as soon as it was suggested he wanted it. He didn't have to make commands, but this… I thought that not a man in the world could stand against him when he spoke that way.

"I don't understand," I said, and he laughed again, the same as before. I didn't like hearing him laugh that way.

"No, Moses, I don't expect that you do. You never did." The hand around the necklace loosened and instead trailed away to settle on my stomach, a warm, not-quite-heavy weight that I didn't know what to do with. Desperately, I wanted an explanation.

"Rameses, please. Tell me what… explain it to me." His eyes went lidded, deep and swirling with something heady that I couldn't identify.

"Do you remember, Moses, when you asked me why I protected you as I did? 'Brothers don't act that way!' you said, although I suspect you were only repeating something one of the common boys told you. I did not tell you at the time, Moses, but you were quite right. Brothers do not act the way I acted, and act, towards you. Everyone seemed to recognize as much; father and mother warned me against it, but it was the only disobedience I partook in consistently. The servants and the guards knew of it too, of course, although they spoke of it only in whispers and never where I could hear." I still didn't understand. His hand stroked my belly as if he were soothing a rabid animal.

"Rameses?" I asked quietly, in the face of his expression. He didn't respond, and I could see a war going on in his expression, a massive inner war that I did not, could not understand. His chest heaved with heavy breaths, his lips slightly parted as if he couldn't get enough air to his lungs any other way. It seemed as though we sat there in limbo for years before finally his eyes shut and he let out a bitter sigh.

"Moses, if you remember this in the morning, please do not hate me. I couldn't bear it if you did," he murmured, and then, then he was over me, his hands supporting him on either side of my face, and his lips were pressed hot against mine.

They moved slowly, working me through the shock at the suddenness of it until I relaxed against the assault, and though it shames me to admit it, my own lips began to work against his too after but a scarce few seconds.

I could feel his chest heave against mine as clearly as I could taste the desperation on his lips. This had been brewing for… a long time. How long, I didn't know, but from the way he had spoken, it must have been long before I left. His tongue flickered against the seam of my lips, fleeting but insistent, and I freely opened my mouth to him and allowed him to deepen the kiss.

Never could I recall having a kiss like this, not with any of the serving girls I'd consorted with and certainly not with Tzipporah. Rameses was not gentle, per se, but nor was he rough. More, he was… powerful, perhaps. In control; I felt as though I were kissing a force of nature, something I had neither the hope nor the desire to fight. I released a soft, pathetic sound that was muffled by the press of his lips and he chuckled, pulling away exceptionally slowly, as if it hurt him.

"I don't hate you," I said, and he chuckled raggedly.

"Give it time, Moses. You're drunk." I was. It wasn't as though I could refute that. I had gone to dinner and I had gotten drunk and then I'd let Rameses, the man I'd called brother for more than half my life, kiss me. And I'd enjoyed it. I stiffened, and he smiled sadly, a pale quirk to his lips that was but a shadow of smiles I'd once seen. He tried to move, then, to get off of me and probably to leave, but my hands shot out like lightning, before I even had the chance to stop them, to close around his waist.

"Don't leave," I said, and the desperation in my own voice surprised me. It had been a long, long time since I'd sounded that way. Surprise painted his face in a thick, obvious mask, before he, very slowly, pushed me to one side and curled into the bed beside me. I smiled, turning my head and pressing it against his neck, feeling oddly like a child as his arms wrapped around me. I tangled my legs in his as if I needed the added certainty that he couldn't move without me knowing about it, and honestly, I came very close to falling asleep like that within moments. I would have, to be entirely truthful, if not for the sound of foreign footsteps on my floor, light and quick, and the quiet voice of the serving boy I'd helped earlier.

"Prince Moses?" he asked, "Prince Moses, are you awake? I heard that you'd drank a lot, tonight, and I wanted to know if I could… if you needed anything from me. In return for the favor you did me." His hand reached out towards the bed, I assume to shake me awake, but his hand landed on Rameses' shoulder instead. I assume he realized almost immediately that he wasn't touching me; Rameses is, after all, far thicker about the arms than I. He reeled away at his realization, gasping as Rameses slipped his other arm from underneath me and sat up, his eyes surely close to murderous at his presence.

"Might I ask what you are doing away from your post, Reseph? Or, better yet, what business you feel you have here?"

"I… I'm very sorry, Pharaoh! I did not mean to… to intrude. I will leave immediately! Your son is… he is sleeping soundly, Pharaoh, but I will check on him!" I felt the bed shift as Rameses lifted a hand to silence the boy.

"Hush. You intrude upon nothing; Moses simply does not sleep well alone. Call it a family trait that my son inherited, if you must." I could imagine the confusion on the boy's face, especially given what he said next.

"Pharaoh, I assure you I don't mean to be rude, but I thought that… that Prince Moses was not… that he was…," stammered, seemingly unable to find a word he deigned safe to speak. Rameses laughed, deep and low in his throat, and once again began stroking my hair and my face softly.

"Of my mother's womb? A Hebrew? You are correct; Moses was born a Hebrew, but the woman who bore him set him in a basket upon the Nile, and the river brought him here, to my mother's arms. He is my brother in all but blood, and I would not have anyone say otherwise." The boy swallowed thickly, as if a stone were stuck in his throat.

"Of course, Pharaoh, I am… I am sorry. But, the other stories. The ones about why Prince Moses left… are they…?" Rameses chuckled again, shaking his head.

"You ask me if my brother is a killer while he sleeps beside me?" The boy yelped, and surely he was bowing rapidly, then, desperately trying to return himself to Rameses' good graces, but the man only chuckled, his body shaking with it. "Still yourself. Moses is no murderer; he hasn't the stomach for it. He could not even stand to raise arms against me when we sparred as children." The answer, non-answer though it was, seemed to satisfy the boy.

"I expected as much. He is… he is very kind. I'll leave you to your evening, Pharaoh, and I am sorry if I was rude. Please, don't hesitate to call upon me if ever you need me," he said, and Rameses seemed to wave him off, probably nodding as he settled beside me in the bed once more, arms yet again tight around me.

I feel perhaps as much shame for this as anything else, but it had been many moons since I slept as well as I did that night in Rameses' arms.

* * *

The next morning, my mind was a messy blur of events I couldn't remember or piece together and I did not want to move, for I felt the comforting weight of arms around me and I knew that the moment I opened my eyes, the wicked sun would burn them. Still, after perhaps a five or ten more minutes of lying there, I knew that I would have to stand soon; I was faintly stiff in places, and my leg stung as if it had had a weight upon it all night.

I groaned and pried my eyes open, hissing at the burning sunlight, and felt familiar snickers against my neck.

"Rameses?" I murmured, and felt him nod, sitting slowly and taking me with him.

"Yes. You were… quite insistent that you did not want to sleep alone last night." Ah. Well, that wasn't particularly surprising. Tzipporah had told me once that I was… clingy, to say the least, when I was drunk.

"Oh. I'm… I apologize if I kept you." He shook his head, waving me off as he stood with a quick crack of his neck, rolling his shoulders as though that were all he needed to do to prepare for the day.

"No trouble, Moses; if anything it was pleasant, as if we were reliving old memories. Go on, get dressed; I'll meet you here in perhaps a half hour, yes? We'll go take a meal with Nefertari and my son, and I'm sure the doctor can be persuaded to give you something for your… condition." I mustered up a smile at the prospect as I stumbled to my feet, my stomach swirling a tad sickly and my head spinning with vertigo as a headache sprouted behind my eyes. Still, I was certain I'd felt worse in the mornings before, even if I never could recall a time I had when I needed to.

"I'll thank you endlessly, Rameses," I said, and I could hear the laughter he only barely tried to muffle as he left the room and started down the hallway.

For one reason or another, I couldn't help but imagine that it would be a good day, despite its not-quite-ideal beginnings. I would, I was sure, get used to living in the palace again in no time at all. I even felt less guilt for knowing that than I did the day before; I was home. I was where I belonged. Today, that was able to make me smile. I couldn't imagine how the day could go wrong after that fact.


	4. Chapter 4

I spent much of my morning with Rameses and his wife and child, who joined us for our morning meal, but shortly thereafter, he was called away by his advisors for some such task that I couldn't name, and Nefertari followed sedately, her pretty, narrow face sedate and accepting. Thus, I was left alone with Rameses' son, who grinned at me with childish glee and took me by the hand almost immediately, dragging me off to the still-lush oasis behind the palace.

"There are so many things that we might do!" he said, "Father told me often of the way you and he cavorted. I wanted very much to meet you, and asked where you had gone, but father would never say. I thought, perhaps, that you had died fighting in some war and that father felt guilt over it, but I guess not! Hey, hey, where were you?" His energy surprised me, to be sure, but it was certainly welcome, and it made me laugh faintly as he ran with me through the greenery.

"I lived in the desert for many years, and have only just been able to return." He paused in his running, and I paused with him as he gazed up at me with wide, curious eyes.

"But why? Why did you go out there? Didn't you know it was dangerous?" I only barely managed to keep from chuckling at that too, but I did manage as the little boy insisted I sit by him atop a stone bench near a small body of water.

"It's a complicated thing, little one; I knew of the danger, but my fear of staying outweighed my fear of leaving. I did not belong here when I left." He didn't understand, and I didn't expect him to; he was only a child, after all. Still, he obviously wanted me to attempt a better explanation, and I could not bring myself to deny him. "I am… your father and I are brothers in spirit, of course; we grew up together and I have never called him anything else. We do not have the same parents, though. When I learned of this… I thought I had no choice but to leave." He looked at me like he'd never seen me, his lips a little parted and his eyes wide.

"But… but father loves you! He talked about you all the time. I don't think he'd ever want you to leave, even if Tuya wasn't your mother too." I touched his head softly, nodding.

"I know that now, but it took… it took time, you see. Time away, with my people." More confusion, and the little boy tilted his head.

"Your people? Aren't… your people are here, aren't they? The same as father's people." I smiled, gentle as I could manage, and shook my head again.

"No. My people are… they've gone, now. But, I'm sure that is something you'll hear more about when you get older." He didn't look as though he wanted to settle for that, and I'm sure I was about to hear just _how _little he wanted to settle for it (especially since he was, certainly, Rameses' son, and I couldn't imagine a son of Rameses giving in easily) but the servant boy came flying to us like a lightning bolt, expression terrified until he saw me with the boy. I chuckled faintly. "Thought he'd escaped?" I asked, and a thin smile tilted his lips for a moment.

"Amun, please do not run off like that! If you are hurt…," he tried, and the younger boy only grinned.

"I did not run off! I wanted to spend the day with my uncle; does father not trust me to be safe even in that?" There was a familiar haughtiness in the child's voice that made me fight back laughter, and I shook my head and patted the boy's back in response.

"Do not be upset that he wants someone to look after you; it means only that he loves you. He treated me in much the same manner when we were young. I couldn't even go to the city without a cluster of guards, and I certainly didn't look enough like a prince to garner much attention." The set of his jaw took on a very familiar appearance, then, solid and almost haughty. Never could I mistake him for a son of anyone but Rameses, I thought with a slight smile. It was almost as though I were looking through a window at the man in his youth.

"I can look after myself!" he said, his eyes blazing and his expression defensive. I bit back my laughter, not particularly eager to offend the child but amused nonetheless. The servant looked to be in a similar state, although he was obviously better at hiding it, and I could see a faint tinge of horror mixed in with the hilarity he seemed to otherwise feel.

"I'm sure you can, Amun, but do you think that I could not when I was your age? I was raised in much the same way that you have been." His eyes began to glitter instead of burn, at that, and he smiled like a cat, thin and mischievous.

"Of course you couldn't! Father told me that you were a little fool who would take the hand of any stranger who offered him a smile. I would not do something so silly." I wondered, then, whether I should be flattered that Rameses had spoken of me to his child or offended that he had spoken as he had. As it was, I suppose I settled for an odd, confusing mixture of the two, and sighed.

"Rameses has a bad habit of exaggerating things, when it suits him. I was no more trusting than he, really! But, in any case, I think it best that you don't go off where you please without your servant, or a guard, knowing of it. What is your name, by the way? I feel poorly, calling you nothing but 'servant.'" I said, turning my gaze to the slightly older boy, whose cheeks darkened slightly at my sudden attention.

"Reseph," he answered, and I nodded. Amun took me by the hand and glared up at me playfully, then, his lips pursed in a slight pout.

"Uncle Moses, do not insult my father! He does not lie!" I laughed.

"Not on purpose, certainly, but as I said, he exaggerates, and he worried over me terribly when we were young." A certain seriousness that didn't belong on the face of a child appeared in his expression, then, and I felt myself stiffen at the sight of it.

"He worried over you later, too. He never liked it when people talked about you, not even me. He did think you were dead. I remember how sad he was, when someone came back to the palace with your jewelry. He wouldn't see anyone for days. Even grandfather worried over his health, then." I swallowed stiffly and took the child into my arms suddenly, as if I thought that by doing so I could heal whatever hurt I'd caused Rameses in my absence. The boy felt stiff at my touch for only a moment before he relaxed and wound his arms around me as well, his face burying itself into my neck.

"I never meant to hurt him, I can promise you that. I have never loved anyone like I love your father, and cannot imagine that I ever will." The boy sniffed.

"He said you were like this too. I wanted to know you so badly when I was smaller."

"You will know me now, Amun; as much as you would like." I released him at my words, but he kept my hand clasped in his and gazed up at me with wonder, with joy, in his eyes. Reseph watched it all with a very small, faint smile on his face, and as Amun began to tug me deeper into the small oasis, I gestured that he follow us.

"Will you play with me today? I've wanted to go explore the temples for weeks! And then tonight you can come eat with me! And I've got some toys in my room, father told me that some of them used to be yours, I bet you'd like to see them again!" On and on, boundless energy flowing from him in waves until he nearly vibrated with it, and I chuckled.

"Be patient! There are only so many hours in a day, and I'm sure your father will want to see me for at least a while. It has been years, after all." The boy laughed, still bouncing along, and Reseph seemed to have a touch of trouble keeping up with us. I snatched his free hand when he appeared to be falling behind, and reminisced on Tzipporah's little sisters, sweet girls that they had been. Things like this had happened constantly, when I was with them; they truly had seen me as an elder brother almost since the moment I arrived in their home.

"Father has kept you since you arrived! He shouldn't be selfish," he said, and I laughed, free and open and so, so happy, happier than I'd ever thought I could be.

"You mustn't be selfish either, you know; surely you can share me? My company is not that sought after." He looked at me as if he'd never seen me as we left the oasis and entered into an area of rolling sands, heading towards a hulking temple in the distance. Reseph stumbled as his sandal sunk into the unsteady sand, and I paused for a moment to hoist him up by the waist before we continued on our way.

"Don't be stupid," Amun told me, his expression informing me very eloquently that he wasn't entirely sure if his request was even possible. "Besides, father will be plenty busy today. There's supposed to be some people coming today, to trade. He'll probably be in the throne room all day." I could feel and understand the slight bitterness in his voice; being pharaoh was not something that one could simply put on pause whenever one wanted, not even for one's own children. I myself had barely even seen Seti, unless I happened to get myself into some sort of trouble, and even then it was only long enough for a quick scolding before I was sent on my way. Rameses had seen him a touch more, given that he was the elder son and the crown prince, but even he had had many days wherein he wanted to speak to, or even see, Seti, but had been unable to do so.

In any case, we were nearing the temple, and he turned us towards it on clever feet, ducking through the slightly darkened doorway with myself, Reseph on my arm, just behind him. I settled the older boy on his feet and looked around the room we had found ourselves in, seeing it large and glorious, the walls painted with all manner of stories, and a large statue of Osiris at the center. Amun panted heavily, looking around with a wide smile as he took in the sights, and dropped my hand so that he could wander the room unimpeded. Reseph swayed somewhat dangerously, and I took him by the bicep worriedly.

"Reseph? Are you well?"

"I… I'm sorry. My leg, it doesn't work well. It is why I was assigned to the palace." I nodded.

"Don't apologize for that. Go on, sit for a while. I've been to this temple many times; I'll look after him." He nodded, lowering himself to the floor with a faint hiss of pain, and I went behind the statue to find Amun gently tracing the back wall, reading it with careful, almost professional eyes, until he reached the doorway that led deeper into the temple, to the places where primarily only the priests would tread. I followed him through, finding a place draped in soft fabrics and cushions, the scent of incense permeating the air. I recalled, once, when Rameses and I had tethered a few camels in here. It had taken weeks for the priests to clean it up! I snickered to myself at the memory, and Amun dived into the pile of pillows, grinning up at me with pleasure as he was half-buried in them immediately.

"Hey, Moses?" he asked me, and I hummed in response, settling beside him as he bid me. "Who was that woman you came here with?" I paused for a moment, wondering how he knew I'd come here with a woman, before I recalled the small body on the dais with Rameses when I arrived, before he was led away when Rameses grew upset.

"Ah, that was my wife, Tzipporah."

"You're married to _her_?" he asked, and I almost thought to be offended at how much that seemed to surprise him.

"I am; she looked after me, when I arrived at her village after my wandering in the desert. She and her family are very kind." He looked as scandalized as a child could possibly look, his young face twisted with shock.

"She's a Hebrew!" he yelled, as if I didn't know, and I hushed him calmly, nodding.

"So I realized. You remember that I told you that I am not your father's brother by way of shared blood, don't you?" He huffed.

"Of course. It wasn't even an hour ago! Do you think I'm stupid?"

"Not at all; a son of Rameses never could be, he wouldn't allow it. In any case, what I'm trying to say, and likely failing at, is that I am a Hebrew as well, just as my mother, and my blood siblings. When I returned here, my aim was to free them, not to stay, but stay is what I did, and they are gone now, led away by my wife. I only pray that they are well." Saying it like that, all at once, reminded me of the melancholy I'd thought I'd lost in the days I'd been here. Amun slid a bit away from me, something like fear, like disgust, in his eyes.

"Does father know?" he asked, and I laughed into my palm.

"He does, Amun; he freed them for me. Still he sees me as his brother, as I do him." It was silent for a little while, before he returned to where he had been, a quiet, tired sigh on his lips as he took me by the arm and half-curled into my side.

"I like you, Uncle Moses," he murmured, and I smiled.

"Thank you, Amun. You are much like your father, you know, and not just in looks. You could almost pass for his twin in personality, especially when you want something." That brought another grin to his face, although this one was more tired than any I'd seen before. I think he made the attempt to respond, in any case, but I couldn't make out what he said he murmured it so lowly, and in mere moments he'd fallen into a deep sleep. I waited for a few minutes longer before I stood and hefted him into my arms, settling his head on my shoulder and moving slowly so as to not jostle him awake.

I entered the main room of the temple again to find Reseph working his leg, and he stood with very little issue at the sight of me, smiling when he saw Amun.

"I thought it was about time for him to be getting ready for a quick nap."

"Shall we get him back to his room, then?" He nodded, and with that we were off, making our way slowly back to the palace, the young boy sighing happily the whole way, curled carefully into my arms, and more a child then than any other time I'd seen him.

I tucked him into his bed as soon as we reached his room, and smoothed my hand over his forehead with a pale smile. Reseph and I left him there silently, and began to wander through the halls, chattering with one another aimlessly for a time, him asking me curiously about my time in the desert, my blood family, my history, and me inquiring the same of him.

We filled much time like that, and I honestly enjoyed myself very much; he was, after all, a likable boy, and his curiosity and kindness were frankly infectious. I ought to have been paying more attention, though; had I been, the guard would not have managed to grab him and begin running with him.

I yelled loudly for them to stop, my own feet pounding after him, and he never got out of my sight. I was, after all, dressed far more lightly, and he carried a burden where I did not. Eventually I managed to run him into a corner, and found him to be the same guard as before. I straightened my back and attempted to look as princely and authoritative as I could manage, although it was likely not particularly impressive. Still, I didn't think it warranted the truly wicked smirk on the guard's face.

"Release him immediately," I said, and he only laughed, squeezing the boy until I was certain he would bruise spectacularly, and I was about to stride forward and _make _him let the boy go when I felt hands close like a vice around my waist and whip me around, slamming me hard into a wall.

My breath fell from my lungs in a huff, the action almost painful in and of itself, and Reseph cried out for me worriedly, managing to sink his teeth into the exposed flesh of his captor only once before his head was cracked against the wall and he fell unnervingly silent. I swore, writhing in the grip of the guard who held me, his face darkly amused and unfamiliar.

"Pretty as ever," he mumbled, brushing the back of his hand down my face, and I snapped at him, baring my teeth and snarling, kicking out and hoping to land one even though the way he held me almost surely prevented me from getting enough leverage to do any real damage. "And just as slow to admit defeat."

"Let me go immediately," I hissed, and he only laughed, pressing his thigh between my legs and forcing me to total stillness. The other guard was laying Reseph on the ground, then, his bulk nearly obscuring the small boy from my view, and I twisted in a vain attempt to free myself. "I will not stand for this."

"You haven't got a choice. Some prince you are, hm? You've none of your brother's might." And then I recognized him; this was him, the guard I had feared. He was older now, yes, but there was no mistaking him. My struggling doubled, all of my childish fears coming back to me even now that I was an adult. I screamed and cried, desperation tinging my voice to its core, and he only smirked at me, pressed me more firmly to the wall before he covered my mouth with his own. It felt like an assault, his teeth clamping harshly onto my lower lip until I cried out, at which point his tongue invaded my mouth. He tasted like cheap alcohol, sharp and rank, and finally I managed to land a knee in his gut that only served to anger him more. "Bitch," he hissed at me, and I spat in his face when I had the chance.

He sneered and slapped me with the back of his hand, hard enough that my head snapped to one side. Reseph groaned where he lay beneath the other man, and still more desperation filled me. What could I do, really? Was there anything? I could not fight, not like this, pinned to the wall, and I could not seem to get him off of me.

The terror made my thoughts fly like the fastest of horses across my mind, so quickly that I couldn't even see to totally process them, but it didn't help. If anything, it only made my heart pound faster, until my blood drummed so loudly in my ears that I couldn't hear anything else. I thought for a short moment that my fears as a child would come true then, in sharp, awful detail, before I heard a blessed, familiar voice.

"My, my. Who, may I ask, gave you permission to handle my brother thusly? You really mustn't care very much for your life," Rameses said, ice injected in his every word and venom in his eyes. The man holding me stiffened with abject terror, and I didn't blame him. Rameses was on a war path, I could tell just by his tone and his expression.

"Pharaoh," he said, almost begged, and dropped me. The man who lay atop Reseph stumbled pathetically to his feet and tried to run, but I caught him by the ankle when he tried to pass me and sent him sprawling. Rameses gave me a quick, pleased grin, the expression cutting across his expression like a knife wound before he was nothing but solid stone again. "I did not mean-," he tried, but Rameses shook his head.

"You believe that you can lie to me? I have heard and I have seen enough of what you have done to know the truth. Why were you harming my brother?" he asked, a strange emphasis on the word "my", as if it were the most important word that had ever passed his lips.

"Please," the guard begged, but Rameses shook his head with a sigh that was meant to sound disappointed, but to my ears, I heard nothing but pleasure. He gestured once, with his right hand, and more guards came from around a corner and took him roughly by both of his arms, yet more of them hauling the man I'd tripped to his feet and dragging him off. Rameses was at my side before they were even gone, his fingers gently stroking my newly bruised, stinging cheek, and I laughed faintly, wavering and full of residual adrenaline.

"I'm alright, Rameses, I promise. Reseph, though, we must get him to the doctor; his head was struck quite roughly. He didn't respond. His dark eyes burned my skin to ash, and I, again, did not understand him. It was a common theme, really, me not understanding him; he could be so otherworldly, sometimes. "Rameses?" I asked, and he shook his head.

"You are mine, Moses." He said it with the same certainty with which he claimed Egypt, his place as the morning and the evening star. My heart seemed to stop in my chest, and memories flooded into my mind, memories of the previous night, of his lips on mine, and then, then they weren't memories anymore, they were what was happening.

His lips were a caress compared to the guard's, his hands cradling the my cheek and the back of my head, and I didn't know what to do in the face of it even though I knew what I had done the night before, knew that I had returned his kiss. But now, when I had no excuse of alcohol, knew what I was doing, how could I do such a thing? Rameses was… he was… my hand trailed without my consent to his shoulders, wrapped around him and pulled him near me and I was kissing him again, desperately, as if I needed him and his touch to even breathe. I was sure that how natural, how right, this felt could simply not be normal, and yet… oh, but I was surely lost. My solace came in that at least Rameses was lost at my side.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Very sorry this has taken so long to get out, especially since it's a little shorter than my usual chapters for this, but hopefully the content makes up for it! Anyway, by the end of this chapter, I'm sure you'll all know what's coming in the next one, and hopefully I'll have it out a bit quicker than I did this one. Hope you all enjoy!

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He held me like a drowning man holds a line even after he pried his lips from mine, and his eyes flamed wild and wicked, like the eyes of an animal kept too long penned. His breath came in heavy pants, the same as mine, and his hands, his hands shook against my skin. I'd never felt him shake before, not in all of our years; his hands had been steady as stone, as, he'd said, a pharaoh's hands had to be.

"I had always hoped, you know, that you would not have to know of this, Moses," he said, trailing the back of one hand down my cheek delicately. I took in a deep breath, shuddering, and tried to settle my panting and speak.

"Know of what, Rameses?" I asked, and he laughed, shaking his head and finally pulling away, taking me by the hand and drawing me to my own feet.

"Do not play the fool now, Moses. I know you well enough to see the knowledge in your eyes. Come, let us help Reseph for now; we will speak of this further later, as I do not think that either of us will be capable of simply allowing this to lie, not anymore." Rameses has a rather annoying habit of being constantly right, I thought then, taking in a deep breath and nodding.

"Of course," I said, moving to lift the boy, but Rameses stopped me with a hand and summoned one of the few remaining guards from behind the wall to carry him to the doctor before he settled a guiding hand low upon my back, feeling hot as fire against the skin.

"Look after him as you would a child of your own; my son would be quite saddened if every anything happened to him. Come, Moses; we will go to my rooms for a time." Command filled his voice, and I felt as like a child again myself, awed by his bearing and helpless to do anything but follow. It was a certain quality he had, I supposed; he made people _want _to follow him, straight to the ends of the earth and back. That was what made him so formidable, so dangerous, and yet such a fine ally, a fine friend. I let him lead me away, even as my mouth still tingled form the press of his lips, and surely my face was yet flushed.

He was uncharacteristically silent on the walk, his expression never changing and never truly softening. I saw something like fear in his eyes, though; did he think I hated him? I'd succumbed to that moment of weakness, same as him. Surely he didn't think I would be angry at him for something I'd done myself? I had never been so fickle!

But, it seemed that he thought I was because the silence persisted as we entered his room and he gestured for me to sit on the bed, which I did, him taking the seat beside me and taking in a deep, hard breath.

"Rameses? I am not-," I said, and he laughed softly.

"Don't worry over it, Moses. It is my, not your, burden to bear. I did, after all, say that I hadn't wanted you to know." I sighed; even now, he wanted to protect me even from guilt. I couldn't help but think that no matter everything that had changed, no matter the differences, some things would forever be the same.

"I was attempting to say that I wasn't angry with you, Rameses. It was... the situation caused high emotion in us both; you feared for me, and was simply happy when you found me well. All is forgiven; I succumbed to the same weakness as you. It would be very silly of me to be angry," I said, thinking myself as being logical, but the look on his face… it reminded me of the day I'd asked him why he was the way he was, why he acted so differently from the other brothers. "Brothers do not act the way I acted, and act, towards you," I heard a faint whisper say in the back of my mind, in Rameses' voice. I realized suddenly that it was another memory from the night I'd been drunk, creeping from behind the alcohol-induced amnesia in the same way as the kiss.

"_Weakness_?" he hissed at me, and never before had I seen such undisguised anger on his face, especially not directed at myself. "You call it _weakness_, Moses? It is not weakness; unless you call love a weakness. Of course, I suppose it is, in circumstances such as my own, but I do not consider it such. I love you, Moses; I had thought that I could stand it, if only you were home and at my side again, if only I could once more call you my brother, but if anything, it has only heightened what I feel, made it harder to bear. And you call it weakness! If I were a weak man, Moses, you'd have been in my bed years before now, long before you even left Egypt. The moment I knew what it was to want, Moses, I wanted you." I gazed at him with wide eyes, wondering how he could harbor such… emotions without me ever having seen. I shook my head, clenching my hands together and wishing I could clench my eyes shut.

"Rameses, please. That is… it's wrong, Rameses. You are my brother, aren't you? Perhaps we don't share blood, but you're my brother even still!" He laughed, raucous, so loud that it seemed to ring in my ears even after he fell silent. I failed to see the humor.

"Weak and wrong, you say! My, but you've learned such fine words for me from _your people,_" he said, his voice hard and likely hiding pain. Despite knowing that, I couldn't seem to hide my own anger.

"This has nothing to do with them, Rameses." His gaze was incredulous, wide-eyed and as close to cold as I'd ever seen it, at least directed at me.

"Nothing to do with them? You're more a fool than I thought you, Moses, and I must say that's quite a feat. It has everything to do with them; you left me, Moses. I nearly begged you to stay, swore that I would keep you from harm, and still you ran, keeping only the ring I'd given you and thinking not once of returning until they told you to, until they wanted you to free 'your people.' Do you understand, Moses, how upset that made me? What have they ever done for you? Has it been half of what I have done? Pulled you from a well, yes, gave you water, gave you kinship, but can that even compare to what we have shared, Moses?"

Mixing with the obvious anger was not-so-obvious pride, as if he were in a competition that none but he knew of. Even still, the way he was speaking… my anger, you understand, had done anything but abate, and I stood then, turning to face him with my jaw set and my arms crossed.

"You speak of them as if they helped me only to use me, Rameses; they gave me what I needed when I required it. There is no competition for who did more for me. I won't lie to you and say that I truly planned to return here; I didn't. I had made a life there, and I would have been content to stay. I'm glad now, though, that I returned; I missed this place far more than I thought, and I would never say that I was unhappy to see you again." Another bitter laugh, this one like ice in his throat.

"And yet I had to force you to stay."

"My wife-," I began, but he cut me off with a hand and a shake of his head.

"You married her for convenience, Moses, same as I did for Nefertari. Don't lie and pretend as if you didn't; you looked at her with affection, yes, but there was no love there, not of the sort a man ought to have with his wife, the sort our father had for our mother." Even now, he called his parents 'our'. I gritted my teeth and shook my head.

"I love Tzipporah, Rameses, and they are not my parents. My parents were Hebrews, and if you'd like to speak of aid to me, speak of them; were it not for my mother placing me in the river, Seti would have had me killed. I am, and they are, after all, just _slaves_," I bit out, trying now to upset him solely because he had upset me.

It worked, of course, but perhaps a bit better than I thought it might. He took me by my biceps, rising to his feet in one quick, fluid motion before he shoved me forwards, pressing me against the far wall harshly. I stiffened; I'd seen his strength before, of course, when we were children and more recently, but being confronted with it like this, all at once… no, that had never happened before.

"Liar. You are not one of them, Moses. You are my brother, and you love me as I love you. That is not something you should feel shame over. We aren't children any longer. They're gone; I set them free as you asked. Forget about them and be content." My heart clenched. Perhaps… I truly was not meant to be here, not really; I'd been here for but a few days, and already I had brought such pain. It would be better if I left, but I knew that it was likely that Rameses would be unwilling to admit as much. I had to push, no matter how it hurt. If I but pushed him further, he would snap and send me away. I had no other options.

"You are no brother of mine, Rameses; my brother is a slave." Too far. I realized it the moment he processed what I'd said. His teeth flashed in a parody of a smile before he laughed, low and harsh enough that I thought it would surely tear something in his throat.

"You want to call yourself a slave that badly, Moses? Fine. I will treat you as one, then. You are no longer my brother. Go back to your rooms. Do not even think to leave them. I will meet you there this evening." His voice was cold, so cold, and I shuddered. He sounded like Seti, then, and even looked like him; I saw the same set to his mouth, the same solidity of his jaw, the same hardness to his eyes.

"No, Rameses. I do not belong here; I belong with them. I was a fool to think otherwise. I am going to leave today; now, if I can. Tell your son that I'm sorry I had to leave so suddenly, and make certain that Reseph heals well." He squeezed my arms tightly, so tightly that I was certain that they would bruise, and instead of shoving me out the door, as I had assumed he would, I found myself being flung in the opposite direction, back towards his bed, and when the back of my legs caught the edge of the bed, I fell atop it with a harsh gasp.

I sank into it deeply, and though I tried to scramble to my feet and slip out the door before Rameses reached me, I underestimated his speed and found myself with his weight pressing against me, holding me down. I squeezed my eyes shut and tensed my lips, unwilling to admit to how it nice it felt, having him over me like that.

"I refuse to tolerate your _lying _any longer, Moses. I will hear the truth from your lips even if I must claw it from you with every ounce of myself." It had never felt like this, with Tzipporah; I loved her, I told myself that I did again and again, but this… the mere thought of it made my body grow warm and aching. I shut my eyes as if I could disappear by doing so, and felt his thumb swipe over my lower lip, his breath leave him in one long, deep sigh. "Look at me, Moses."

I refused with a shake of my head, and felt him shift above me. I thought, perhaps, that he'd kiss me again, and braced myself for it, but instead I felt his mouth at my jaw, kissing and nipping almost playfully. I gasped, my head tilting almost subconsciously to one side, and he chuckled against my skin.

"Rameses," I tried, one more time, but his name sounded breathy even to my own ears, as close to a moan as it could be without me actually moaning.

"Hush, Moses. I see well enough what you desire of me." The fact that he yet again spoke truth made my face blaze with heat, and I felt him tense, mouthing a bit harder at my jaw and moving slowly down my neck to nip at my collarbones, to lick the hollow of my throat and run his fingers almost ticklishly down my sides.

"Please," I whispered, though whether it was to myself or to him or to nobody at all I don't know. I felt him shake his head and breathe out, breath hot where my skin was damp and cool.

"So quickly? I'd have thought it would take longer to get you begging. My, your dear wife really must not have pleased you." There was a teasing quality to his voice now, rather than a cruel one, and I was reminded of the far more innocent taunting the both of us generally partook in, wondering how long this had been there, how long this simmering heat had gone unnoticed and unchecked. He swiped a finger over one of my nipples suddenly, without warning, and continued mouthing at my neck even as I felt myself arch against his hand.

"Shut up," I heard myself hiss back, my own words coming out with the same hint of teasing even though I'd wanted anger.

"I'm afraid you're in no position to make me," he said, sounding far too pleased with himself as he pinched where he'd swiped. A noise tore itself from my throat, the pleasure honestly shocking me, and at last he moved his mouth further downwards, until his mouth closed around the nipple his hand had left unattended. I thrashed beneath him, but he was far heavier than I, and I knew I had no hope in getting him to move; he would stay where he wished.

"Rameses, this is not… I cannot…," I tried, doing my best to speak, to remember why I was meant to protest against something that felt so wonderful, so right.

"I said hush, didn't I?" he asked, lifting his head for but a moment to look me in the eye. "This is not wrong. You said yourself that we are not brothers, did you not? And yet still I love you, despite how cruelly you've spoken to me. I want you, desperately. If you truly want this to stop, tell me no. Fight me, and I shall stand down. I will love you yet, even if you despise me for this." I tried to do as he said, to say no, to struggle, honestly I did. Still, the look on his face, the feel of his hands, the heat, the wonder, the comfort, I felt then, underneath him, pleasure thrumming in my veins, there was no fight left in me.

I did not dislike anything of what he had done, and though my mind fought the idea, I couldn't help but think that perhaps what Rameses felt was not as unrequited as the both of us thought. My heart thrummed wildly, buzzing like an insect in my chest as I thought.

I'd never met someone kinder to me, I thought; likely, I would never again. Someone so willing to protect me, to fight for me, but also to fight beside me, to let me stand on my own when I could… none but a fool would give someone like that away. My chest tightened; my brother, my friend, and now… I would have him be my lover too. My eyes closed again, and my breath came to me in unsteady, shuddering gasps. "Well, Moses?"

"Touch me," I murmured, and felt him tense.

"Truthfully, Moses?" I nodded.

"Yes. It's… it's alright. I want… do as you will." He collapsed atop me, then, a child's marionette with strings snapped, and snickered against my skin.

"That is a stupid thing to offer me, Moses. There is much I would do, and but very little that I should." I felt myself laugh, one of my hands settling on top of his head and stroking softly.

"We've broken plenty of taboos together already, have we not? We… I'm sure a few more would not hurt us too badly, would they… brother?" I asked, and again he snickered.

"I am sorry for what I have said to you, Moses; it was unwarranted." I shook my head.

"No; I said what I did only to upset you. You had every right," I told him, and he sat up, smiling.

"So forgiving. I have always loved you, Moses, do you know that? Since the day mother pulled you from the river. I stayed by your side from that day on, until you left to stand on your own, and now, Moses, you are a man. I would like to stand by you again." His fingers trailed down my belly, his touch feather-light and teasing, fleeting, wonderful.

"I would have the same, Rameses. I am sorry that I left, but I…," I tried, but he hushed me.

"I trust that you did what was best; you are not nearly so much an idiot as I would like to think." I laughed, my blood thumping in my veins, pulse racing in my ears as his touch grew more solid, as his dark eyes grew darker with yet more lust. I knew that I was in a similar state, honestly, but now, I didn't fight it. I embraced it. I lay there, I relaxed, I closed my eyes, and at last, I allowed myself to being getting lost in the touch of his hands.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N So, okay, this chapter is mostly porn; I figure I should probably say that, just in case. I've only got one more chapter, one for all the resolutions and things, planned out for this fic; anyway, I hope you all enjoy this chapter!

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I couldn't recall a single other moment in which I felt such… anything, really. My skin tingled and buzzed under his hands, alight with the joy of being touched, and I tilted my head back, my eyes closed, merely absorbing and enjoying it for a time, until I felt a light, teasing lick to my neck that sent me tumbling into at least slightly higher awareness as my eyes, however lazily, opened at last to look at him. He chuckled, and his body was so close to mine that I could nearly feel it vibrate through him and into me.

"You could at least do me the service of paying attention, Moses," he whispered against my ear, and I shuddered, my eyes fluttering a bit, all beyond my control.

"And what in the world do you _think _I'm paying attention to, if not you?" He chuckled, but it sounded ragged, as if he had been speaking for hours and tired his voice.

"You looked like you were daydreaming," he said, hand at last trailing down my chest, and I felt as though each touch left a line of fire. I shook my head, arching into his hand with a sigh as he worked his hands over me like a master, like he'd knew exactly where to touch to turn me fastest to a limp, weak man.

"Never," I replied, and he nodded. I think he might've said, "good" but the moment his mouth opened he tweaked one nipple almost harshly and I let out a low groan, pleased to at last be getting true, deep pleasure again as I wrapped my arms around him tightly.

He seemed to approve of that, because he kept working at the nipple with his fingers, and at last his mouth lowered to the other. My back bowed, my head pressing into the pillow and my lips clenching shut in a desperate bid to keep silent. He shook his head, tongue leaving one last lick before he glanced back up at me.

"Let me hear you," he said, "I want to know you want this, Moses." He sounded so serious, so solemn, where before he had been so playful, and I had no choice but to listen. I nodded my agreement, and when he put his mouth down again I'm quite sure that I let him hear everything he wanted to hear and more.

I'd never felt like this before, not really; with Tzipporah, it had been good, of course, but not so strong, and certainly not so sudden. Rameses nipped the nipple in his mouth at the same time that he squeezed another, and I whined, hands sliding up his back, his neck, to clutch at the back of his head. He murmured softly and kept working at me, not seeming to mind even as my hips jerked against him, my body seeking more friction, more pleasure, all at once.

I thought I'd go insane, he licked and nipped and sucked for so long, giving me nothing more, nothing he didn't want to give, until at last I was nearly begging without even realizing it, desperate for more, and I felt him smile against my skin as soon as the words began to pour from my mouth.

"Please, Rameses, I need… this is not enough," I tried, half-expecting him to start laughing, but he never did. Instead, he removed his mouth and sat up, his eyes warm and, if not precisely gentle, loving. Heat, and not all of it from arousal, bloomed in my chest, as I panted and squirmed beneath him.

"I had wondered when you would ask, Moses," he said, almost thoughtful, as he at last tucked his fingers under my shift, and, with a swift tug, removed it from me. I felt barer than I'd ever been, and perhaps a bit self-conscious, but he looked at me like he'd never seen anything or anyone finer before, licked his lips lightly, and shimmied, lithe and sinuous as a snake, down my body. I whined from low and far back in my throat, animalistic and more desperate than I ever wanted to admit, and only growing more so as his hands followed his body down, across my sides, over my belly, my hips, but bypassing where I wanted them most to settle on my yet-quivering thighs.

He pushed them apart just slightly, and I only resisted the gentle pushing for a moment until I realized that whatever he wanted to do, if it was only half as pleasurable as what had been happening, I wanted him to do it. However… it didn't really seem fair, me having all the pleasure and him sitting there, suffering, to give it to me.

"Rameses," I said, and he glanced up at me from between my legs with that dangerous, thoughtful look on his face. He only hummed in response, barely enough to show me that he had, in fact, heard me speak. "This isn't… don't you want me to do anything? Surely you are…," I paused, unable to think of the right words, and decided to make a vague gesture in as a replacement. He bit his lip once, very light, and looked too amused for words, almost certainly biting back the laughter I'd thought would've come earlier.

"I can assure you that I'll get mine, Moses; don't worry yourself over it. You can take care of me as much as you like later, I promise, but for now, let me deal with you." The words, said with such low, searing passion, made me tense for a moment, before at last I nodded, deciding that there was little that I could do beyond trust him to do as he saw fit for the both of us. I nodded, yet confused, but it ever there was someone I truly wanted to trust to lead me through something like this, it was him.

The almost smug pleasure that wafted off of him at my nod was nearly palpable, and he patted my thigh softly in what I assumed was reward as he wiggled even lower, until I could feel his breath against the hard flesh between my legs. Confusion battered me, for a moment, but then, before I could even ask just what exactly he planned on doing, I felt his mouth on me all at once.

I only barely managed to resist screaming at the sudden enveloping heat, and when he chuckled around me in response, the vibrations tumbling from him and into me, I _wasn't _able to resist it. The noise tore itself from my throat as I arched and writhed on the bed, my fists clenching in the soft linens. Rameses lifted his head for a moment with a vulgar, wet sound, and grinned up at me.

"What?" I finally managed, hoping the force of my gaze would return him to what he was doing, but he only grinned again, taking the moment to stretch over me, to the small table by the bed, and grab a small vial that was settled by his leg before I got a good look at it.

"I know I said I wanted to hear you, Moses, but I'm afraid I don't want the entire _palace _to hear you. You can make noise, but do try to keep it down just a bit. I know it's quite difficult, given how amazing I appear to be, but give it a try." I wanted to curse at him, for his presumption, and for his cockiness, but I felt only almost as strong as a crumbling pillar and I certainly didn't want to risk him leaving me this way. I relegated myself to glaring, and he snickered yet again, shaking his head as he took me into his mouth again. This time I managed to get the meat of my arm into my mouth before too much noise escaped, and I kept it there as he began to truly work, my head thrashing to either side and my toes curling and uncurling with the steady, if fast, thrumming of my pulse.

My free hand moved from the linens to touch his neck again, and somehow, having my hand on him seemed to ground me at least a little. He pulled back somewhat, his tongue laving the head instead of the underside for a time, one of his arms settling over my hips to control the jerking of me hips and the other sweeping steadily up and down my inner thigh.

I spread my legs a bit wider, not bothering even to be embarrassed now, and he suddenly took everything into his mouth and sucked hard, once. I keened around my arm, and the hand that had been on my thigh was elsewhere in seconds, grabbing the vial by his leg and forcing it open. His other arm left my hips for a moment as he used it to pour the substance, dripping and sweet-smelling, over his fingers, before he settled the vial at his side again and once more barred my hips.

I groaned again, the sound still slipping by the guard of my arm, thought it was quite muffled. He took me deep again, then, before I had the time to think about anything at all, and his tongue did something incredibly distracting that made me arch again, my legs surely going as limp as possible. I felt something probe at the opening of my body, then, slick and light, and it took me an embarrassingly long time to realize that it was one of Rameses' fingers. He managed to slip it into me with little resistance, and though the action burned a little, it didn't hurt, per se; more, I found it similar to the way my legs felt after a long run; aching, but satisfied.

Even still, I know I tensed, at least for a moment, but his mouth stopped that quite quickly, moving expertly too send me tumbling back into my previous loose, easy state. From there, everything seemed slow and careful, the single finger working me open expertly as his mouth kept me relaxed and moaning.

By the time he deemed me ready for a second finger, I already felt flayed to the nerve, every touch, every sound, every sight, buzzing through me so much faster, so much clearer, than ever before. I mumbled his name around my arm whenever I wasn't making any other noise, until it sounded as hallowed, as necessary, as any prayer. When his two fingers spread inside me, his tongue pressing against the slit of my penis, I screamed it, and not even my arm could hide it. I glanced down and saw the amusement blatant on his face, and almost wanted to do something childish, like stick my tongue out at him as I perhaps once would have, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. Poor timing, I supposed, no matter how much he deserved it.

A third finger slipped in, then, almost as if he could see my thoughts and wanted another reason to laugh. My arm fell from my mouth and I yelped, arching again even against the solid hold of his arm. Still his name fell in a litany from my lips, now unimpeded, and he didn't even bother to mention the noise, now, likely enjoying himself too much.

His fingers moved in me expertly, stretching me open with ease, and I felt myself almost subconsciously twitching back against them, moving with him, finding a rhythm between his mouth and his fingers that left me satisfied but yet desperate for more. And then his fingers touched something within me that had me wide-eyed and gasping for breath, my vision flashing white. My reaction made him chuckle around me again, and that certainly didn't help; I was writhing and jerking like a madman, unsure of whether I wanted to buck towards his mouth or back against the sensation being brought by his fingers.

Yet again he was making me go insane with the waiting; there seemed to be no end to his patience as he stretched me, as he sucked me, even though I desperately wanted more, despite not really fully knowing just what, exactly, more was.

"Please," I whispered, over and over, interspersing it with nothing but his name and a few pathetic whimpers I never wanted to admit were actually mine. Another pop, and Rameses' mouth was off of me, but his fingers were still working me over expertly, leaving me a quivering mess.

"Please what, Moses. Tell me what you want." My eyes clenched closed with my lips because I didn't _know _what I wanted; all I could really say was, quite simply, that I wanted.

"Anything," I finally said, when at last it seemed he wasn't planning on doing anything else until I spoke. "Just, more." I opened my eyes long enough to see him nod, and his fingers slid slowly out of me. I was hard and aching, then, wanting nothing more than to come, to be touched and held in his arms like I never had been before.

"Alright. I need you to stay relaxed for me, alright, Moses? This will very probably hurt a bit at first," he warned, taking the vial again, but this time, rather than putting it on his fingers, his removed his own shift and poured the contents over his own penis, which looked just as hard and pulsing as my own. I felt a strange sort of pride, then, that it had been I who'd caused that, and I felt myself smirk when he hissed at the cold liquid. I might've felt bad for it, had he not been smirking and laughing at me the whole while we'd been doing this. He picked up my loose legs and draped them over his shoulders, then, and I allowed it easily, feeling the blunt pressure of him against my opening.

He pushed into me slowly, very, very slowly, inch by careful inch, as if he thought he'd shatter me if he so much as breathed too quickly. As he'd said, it did hurt a bit; the stretch was more than his three fingers, and certainly deeper, but it certainly wasn't too much to take. If anything, it only made it a bit more intense, more pleasurable, when at last he was fully seated within me, breath coming in harsh pants against my shoulder, his hands shuddering and squeezing my hips.

His own hips twitched a few times, aborted, and I wondered what he was doing for a time until I realized that he was waiting for me to tell him it was alright. I smirked again, at last getting my own chuckle, before I nodded.

"It's alright, Rameses. More than alright. Please, take me," I managed, and that, it seemed, was all he needed. He slid out smoothly, practiced and easy, and slammed back in hard enough that the bed jerked. I whined; he'd come so close to that place he'd struck with his fingers, and I couldn't imagine how much better it would feel like this, with him in me. I wiggled a little as he slid out the second time, trying to angle him where I wanted him, and it seemed he got the hint because he helped a tad, and when he entered me again, he did indeed hit that place.

I cried out; as I'd thought, it was so much more amazing, and I wondered how I'd missed something like this, something so wonderful, for so many years. With every thrust, my vision flashed and my body jerked and moans fell from my mouth. My eyes at last fell closed completely again, and I tried my best to move with him, but he changed the rhythm so often that eventually I gave in and let him move me how he wanted me, give me what he wanted to give me.

When I came, it actually shocked me, a little; he'd hit the place with in me particularly hard, and his hand had gone to curl around my penis, and with but a few more twists of his hand, a few more thrusts, I was pulled as taut as a bowstring and coming with a long, low cry. My body clenched around him, and his eyes flew wide, his pupils looking so large that I could scarcely see the deep brown of his eyes.

The sudden tightness tore a groan from him, and he squeezed me so tightly then that he almost surely left bruises, but then he was coming too, the feeling hot and pulsing within me. My penis twitched once, as if I had any hope of getting hard again, and he shuddered, my legs falling from his shoulders and his head thumping against my chest. I stroked his head, my lips parted and my eyes barely half-open.

I was tired and sated as he slipped out of me and rolled us masterfully so that I was lying atop him and his weight wouldn't hurt me as he collapsed tiredly. He flung an arm around my waist and twined our legs together, and even though I felt messy and a bit uncomfortable with his come dripping from me, I too was too tired to do anything about it.

"I do love you, Moses," he murmured into my neck, nipping again, probably sucking a mark into the skin. I nodded, stroking his chest with a quiet sigh.

"I know. I love you as well, Rameses; you know I do. I truly am sorry for what I said earlier, you know." He chuckled, nodding.

"I am as well, of course. The both of us have a poor habit of saying things we don't mean when we're upset. I'd have thought you'd have known that about us, by now." I laughed softly, as if afraid that doing anything too loudly would shatter the warm, glowing moment between us.

"I suppose there are some things I have forgotten. You'll have to make me remember," I said, and he petted my hair, curling a soft hand into it as he pulled me against his side and curled fully, protectively, around me.

"I wouldn't dream of letting you forget," he answered, and within minutes, the both of us drifted into a sound, easy sleep.

I couldn't imagine things going any differently, honestly; Rameses, it seemed, had held me more thoroughly than either of us knew, even before I'd left home. I knew that that wouldn't change, when we awoke, but even still, I feared how we would face everything. I feared how we would let anyone know. I suppose I simply feared.

Ah well; it was far from the first time I'd been frightened, and I assumed it wouldn't be the last. However, like every time before, I now had Rameses at my side, proud and brave and strong, and with his hand at my back I knew that we would both continue to stand.


End file.
